The Riddick Family
by Sanura Bey
Summary: Before we knew Riddick on that deserted planet, he had a family he was protecting while on the run. His wife and child were his world and he always went home for them. Then a merc captured him and is now using his family as leverage on a deserted planet. What will happen and how will they all survive?
1. The Crash

They that your brain shuts down in Cryo sleep. All but the primitive side. The animal side. My race never sleeps in Cryo.

"Hear me?" I opened my eyes to see a woman trying to talk to someone in their Cryo Chamber. "Cap'n? Some kinda compromise to the hull...holding for now, but...Goddamn, I'm glad you're alive. Gotta pull your E-release...no, red handle, red handle. I'll get the warm-ups out while -" Suddenly, particles bore through the cabin, shattering plexi, detonating instruments on the opposite wall and leaving contrails hissing in the air. The woman fell back and landed on her ass. Suddenly another locker blew open and a body fell right on top of her.

"Why did I fall on you?" the man asked her.

"He's dead. Cap'n's dead. Christ, I was looking right at him when -" she tried telling him but he wouldn't listen to her.

"I mean, I mean, chrono shows we're 22 weeks out, so gravity wasn't supposed to kick in for another 19. I mean, I mean,  
I mean, why did I fall at all?" he asked again.

"You hear me? Captain's dead. Owens too." she told him.

"Oh, no. Not Owens, not... Wai', wai', wait. I'm Owens. Right?" the man asked her. The gave each other a look.

"Cryo-sleep. Swear to God, it sloughs brain cells." she told him. They both disappeared into another cabin. I released myself from my chamber and made my way to some of my things. I pulled out my weapons and put them where they were needed to make sure they stayed with me if we crashed onto a planet. I suddenly felt something with the ship that was different. Lighter. Purge. The ship felt lighter again. Another purge? We must be in trouble. I saw the doors close between us and the cabin Owens and Fry went through. They were going to purge us. Survival of the fittest at its best. I hid as someone opened the doors to make the pilot stop from purging us.

"70 seconds! You still got 70 seconds to level this beast out!" Owens shouted. I looked at the other passengers to see some of them beginning to wake up. "What the shit was that?!" The hull began to crack around me. I grabbed onto something as some of it broke free of the rest of the ship. I held on for dear life for what seemed like hours until the ship finally stopped being drug on the Planet.


	2. The Rising and Setting Suns

Choking yellow dust swam around in the air as people were coughing, moaning and calling out to other survivors in English and Arabic. I quickly stood up and went to find my son. I moved things out of the way as I looked until I saw for him. I finally found him, banging his hands on his cryo-locker.

"Hold on, I'll get you out." I told him trying to find something to get the door open. Suddenly a man dropped down next to me and helped me get him out. I looked at the man to see Richard and sighed a breath of relief. "Get out of here, quickly." I told him as he held his son for a brief moment. He glanced at me and nodded before leaving us again. Soon someone grabbed my arm and pulled me up, Johns. He pulled me to some people nearby who were trying to open a cryo-locker with a cutting torch. When they managed to open it a child around 12 years old fell out, unscathed.

"Somethin' went wrong, huh?" she asked and we helped her up.

* * *

I saw Johns helping a woman through the carnage in this portion of the ship. She looked around stunned by it all. Suddenly, she started digging like a search dog to uncover a man still strapped to his chair a metal rod piercing his chest close to the heart. Dead.

"Out, out, out, GET IT OUTTA ME!" He shouted out stunning me. I held my son close to me trying to hide him from the death that was bound to happen.

"Pull it out of him..."

"No, it's too close to the heart..."

"You gotta do it, just do it fast..." the woman grabbed the rod

"Don't touch it! Don't touch that switch!" the man called out.

"You'll kill him, I'm tellin' you, shit, just leave it alone...delirious...doncha you got some drugs for this poor man..." someone called out.

"Don't touch that switch!" he said again.

"Awright, awright, someone...there's Anestaphine in the med-lock, that end of the cabin...next to..." she looked to the end of the cabin and saw nothing. The man screamed in exquisite pain. "Get away. Everybody." she said and we all left, except for the boy we'd pulled out of the cryo-locker. Johns grabbed my arm and her collar. As we left I saw my husband cuffed to a bulkhead, his eyes beautiful eyes hidden by goggles.

* * *

We straggled outside with the others and I got to see all of their faces in the sunlight. There was a man and a woman in there 30s, male-female team of bushwhackers. Partners in life. Another man was an overfed, over groomed, puff pastry of a man in his 40s or 50s. Four male Chrislams, the older being in his 50s and the younger three in their late-teens. The terrain around us was stark and unforgiving with two suns scorching down on everything - one red, one yellow.

"Well. Our own little slice of heaven." the over groomed man said. The Chrislams fell to their knees with confusion on their faces as they tried to orient themselves.

"Please...which way to New Mecca? We must know the direction in order to pray." the older one told us. I looked at the others and they all shook their heads. Johns snapped open a compass and I looked to see the needle rudderlessly around. Then the screaming inside the ship finally ended. The four Chrislams finally devised a way to pray: backs together, each facing a different compass point. We all walked in another direction to leave them be and climbed to the top of the ship to look at the damage.

* * *

The last crew member of the ship climbed onto the back of the ship with Johns, Paris, Zeke, Shazza, Audrey, Josh and I after we'd all exchanged names.

"Big talk about a scouting party..." Johns said and she looked to see the huge smoldering scar in the ground behind the ship. One glance and you would know there were no other survivors. "...then we saw this."

"Anyone else having breathing problems? Aside from me?" Paris asked.

"Like I just ran, or something..." Audrey said.

"Feel one lung short. All of us." Shazza explained.

"Well, I tend toward the asthmatic. And with all this dust..." we all turned to the captain, everyone looking for answers.

"It's the atmosphere. Too much pressure, not enough oxygen. Might take a few days to -" she started telling us.

"So what happened, anyways?" I asked her.

"Somethin' knocked us off-lane. Maybe a rogue comet. Maybe we'll never know." she told us.

"Well, I for one, am thoroughly fucking grateful. This beast wasn't made to land like this. But cripes, you rode it down." Shazza said her before turning to us. "C'mon, you lousy ingrates, only reason we're alive is a'cuzza her." Everyone chimed in agreement, laying thankful hands on her shoulders. She led us back into the ship to where the pressure suits were stored and broke them out.

"Liquid oxygen canisters inside. Start ripping them out. Quick hits only - try to make it last." Fry told us.

"Well, is someone coming for us? Or are we all just gonna die of exposure or dehydration or sunstroke or maybe even something worse? Hey, you don't have to worry about scaring me." Audrey told us and I smiled slightly.

"We're worried you'll scare us." Shazza told her, ushering the girl away.

"Your name's "Audrey," right? And you're going to Taurus Three?" I asked her.

"Yeah, but...do we even have enough food to get there? Or will we have to resort to cannibalism?" She asked me and I smiled at her.

"No, sweetheart. We won't." I told her, keeping both her and Josh by my side.

"I'll see 'bout makin' this air go a bit further, cap'n. With your permission, a' course." Zeke said to Fry. She blinked absent mindlessly before nodding and Zeke and Shazza got to work. I turned from them back to Fry to see her staring at Richard.

"And him?" Fry asked.

"Big Evil?" Johns asked her.

"We just keep him locked up forever?" Fry asked looking at the merc. He glanced at me with a smirk before turning back to her.

"Be my choice. Already escaped once from the max-slam facility on -" Johns started telling her but she didn't want to listen.

"I don't need his life story. Is he really that dangerous?" Fry asked him.

"Only around humans." Johns said staring at the man he bound. Richard had his mouth on the hull, looking like he was licking the metal. Fry moved closer to try and see what he was licking.

"Oh, Christ..." she said before suddenly running, snatching an emergency light on her way out. I looked at Richard to see what he was licking off the hull and my eyes widened. Water.

"Well? Is it just the pump?" Zeke called out to her.

"Ask if anyone has anything in cargo! Anything to drink!" she called back to him. We quickly asked around and went to the Cargo Hold.

* * *

The over-sized doors rumbled open. Fry, Johns, Paris and I climbed into this dark corridor lined with cargo containers and each container had an access door.

"Mine here..." Paris told us kneeling down to unlock it. I looked at Johns to see him steady himself and smiled lightly. Time for a top-op

"S'matter?" Fry asked him.

"Little swamp-flu from the Conga system. Never shook it with all this cryo-sleep." Johns lied to her. I turned back to Paris to see him open his container to reveal chairs stacked 10 high, bronze eagle lecterns, oriental umbrellas, and castings.

"King Tut's tomb..." Johns said looking at the castings.

"Be surprised what these will fetch in the Taurus system. Here. This Wooten here - easy, easy. Very rare." Paris told us and we opened the Wooten desk to see a cubbyhole and inside were dusty bottles of sherry. I pulled out a bottle and read it. Vintage Port. Glenfiddich. Bicardi 151. Nice.

"This is it? Booze? That's what you have to drink?" Fry asked him and I rolled my eyes at her.

"200-year-old single-malt scotch is to "booze" as foie gras is to "duck guts."" Paris told her.

"A toast to whatever he just said." Johns said cracking open a bottle.

"I'll need a receipt for that." Paris told Johns before turning to Fry. "For all these."

"Top of my list." Fry told him sarcastically as she joined Johns for a drink. I looked to the entrance to see the Chrislams watching them. "I don't suppose..."

"One of the Christian habits we didn't adopt - perhaps unfortunately. We'll have to wait." Imam told her.

"For what? There is no water. You understand that, don't you?" Johns asked him like he was an idiot.

"All deserts have water, somewhere. God shall lead us there." Imam said and I left the cargo hold to find Josh and Audrey sitting down talking with each other.

* * *

Everyone was gathering weapons in the Nav-bay but Johns wouldn't let me near them, but I took notes. Johns had a pistol, shotgun, baton. Zeke and Shazza offered up a pick-ax, digging tools, hunting boomerang. Imam showed a ceremonial blade. Paris straggled in with antique curios.

"What the hell are these?" Johns asked him holding up a weapon.

"Maratha crow-bill war-picks from Northern India. Very rare." Paris told him.

"An' this?" Zeke asked him holding up a new weapon.

"Blow-dart hunting stick from Papua New Guinea. Very very rare, since the tribe's extinct." Paris told him.

"'Cuz they couldn't hunt shit with these things, be my guess." Zeke said putting it back down.

"Well, what's the need, anyway? If he's gone, he's gone. Why should he bother us?" Paris asked.

"First, because he can only live out there for so long - he's gonna come back and take what we got. Second, for the sheer thrill of the kill." Johns told him and I shook my head. After a beat they all took weapons.

"What about Mina?" Audrey asked looking at me.

"Don't worry about her. I'll watch her." Johns said and smirked at me again.

* * *

Zeke and Shazza were modifying breather units, adding straps and tubing and ball-floats. The prototype was tested on Audrey and she sucked on the mouthpiece and smiled when she found that it worked, supplying oxygen on demand rather than in a constant flow. The Chrislams converted to traditional bedouin head-gear, readying for travel.

"Imam. We should leave soon. Before nightfall but while it's cooler." Fry called out.

"What, you're goin' off, too?" Zeke asked her.

"Johns is leaving you a gun. Just do me a favor, huh? Get my crewies buried? They were good guys who died bad." Fry told him.

"A'course we will." Shazza told her.

"Imam...Imam..." We followed the child's voice around the ship to see a blue star flaring into view. Rising as the other suns were setting.

"My bloody oath..." Shazza said in shock.

"Three suns?" Audrey asked looking at us.

"So much for your nightfall." I told Fry.

"So much for my cocktail hour." Paris said quietly.

"We take this to be a good sign - a path, a direction from God." Imam said as Johns swung down from the top of the ship.

"A very good sign." Johns said referring to the rising sun. "That's Riddick's direction. You do not wanna be caught in the dark with this guy."

"Thought you found his restraints over there. Toward sunset." Fry said motioning to the setting suns.

"Which means he went toward sunrise." Johns told her.


End file.
